A Christmas Carol, Marauders Style
by Daisy Pennifold
Summary: In which Severus Snape is taught a lesson, and the Marauders for once allow Lily's cool head and ingenuity to mastermind the prank to beat all holiday pranks.


_A/N: Sorry, but I never can resist leaving an author's note! This is something I found going through my files, and I realized that I had never posted it here (bit odd, posting a holiday story in May, but... :shrugs: ...them's the breaks). This was a gift for a member of the Christmas Exchange at FandomCommerce on LiveJournal. It's a fun community with fic/gift exchanges. You should check it out!_

_This isn't my best, but I liked the idea, and it was fun to write. Give Snape a hug when you're done reading! Poor boy._

**Malfoy**

Severus Snape entered his Seventh-year dorm on Christmas Eve with a sigh. Once again, he was the only Slytherin in his year staying at Hogwarts over Christmas, and was afraid to wander the halls, lest he be accosted by that bloody gang of Gryffindors, who had all stayed over this year. They had got him twice that day, even though he had tried to stay on guard. Luckily, the Jelly-legs jinx had worn off hours ago, but he still felt sore from when Black had stupefied him, and he hit the stone floor face first. He didn't know why _they_ were attempting to avenge Stebbins. He wasn't even in their house.

'Another lovely day at Hogwarts', he thought sardonically. 'Only six months to go, and I'll never have to see this place again.' The thought made him feel slightly better, and as he changed into his graying pajamas and long nightcap, he only wished death on one or two people, rather than the usual crowd.

Severus fell asleep quickly, after pulling the green velvet curtains around him, but woke soon after to the sound of clanking. "What in Merlin's name-" he said to himself, and pushed the covers aside to see – a ghostly Lucius Malfoy, looking quite put out to be covered in chains.

"Lucius, what are you doing here? You've graduated!"

"Well spotted, Sev," Lucius said in a bored manner, flicking a bit of his normally impeccable blond hair to one side. "Trust me, if I had a choice, it wouldn't be _you_ I'd be staring at in a slinky nightdress." He arched an eyebrow at Severus' nightgown, which had inched up his legs, and Snape blushed as he pulled the covers up to his waist.

"But-"

"I'm getting to it, Severus," Lucius drawled, and rolling his eyes, pulled the hood of his robe up over his face, lifted his hands in the air, and said, "Woooo."

"I-"

"YOU, Severus Snape," Lucius interrupted, "Must repent of your wicked ways. Your cruelty to Gryffindors and first-years, your unrepentant studying of the Dark Arts, and your general loathsomeness must change, ere your soul be condemned, as mine is, to eternity in chains."

"You're not dead, Lucius. I saw you last Hogsmeade weekend." Snape was, at this point, utterly confused.

"I know. I told them it didn't make any sense, but-"

"Told who?"

"Oh! Er, never mind...

"You will be visited this night by three spirits, to help you to see the error of your evil-ness. Wait for the first as the clock strikes one." With this, Lucius glided backwards out of the room, clinking, and tripped a little over his chains as he reached the door. Snape heard a muffled curse as the door closed.

**The Spirit of Christmas Past**

Snape lay back in his bed with a huff, wondering what was going on. He wasn't frightened, not really, just confused. He had fallen back into a troubled sleep, but as he heard the distant booming of the clock in the Slytherin Common Room strike the hour, he sat up, clasping his wand, ready.

Nothing happened.

After about five minutes, he assured himself he had been dreaming, and tried to go back to sleep, but no sooner had he done so, then a face peeked around his curtain.

"Ready, then?"

Severus yelped and jumped a foot in the air, reaching for his wand, which was suddenly, inexplicably, missing. The candle next to his bed ignited, and Severus looked into the face of the spirit, a lovely young girl with flaming red hair, in a long white robe.

"Evans, what are you doing in my dorm?"

"I know not this Evans of whom you speak," the spirit said lightly, her voice seeming to echo through the room. "I am the Spirit of Christmas Past, and I shall take you on a journey to see that you weren't always such a loathsome git – er, I mean, troubled soul, as you are now."

"A journey?"

"Of sorts. A journey of the mind, Severus Snape. Lie back and close your eyes."

"Why should I trust you, Evans?" Severus asked the spirit, now perched on the edge of his bed. _So_ many times this had happened in his dreams, but never quite like this.

"For Merlin's sake, Snape, I'm not Evans! I'm the bloody Ghost of Christmas Past. Now lie back and relax." She started humming something soothing and light, and Severus found himself trusting, relaxing, and closing his eyes to better listen to her voice.

Suddenly, he found himself looking down on the Slytherin Common Room, as from above. He saw a group of students of varying sizes, clustered around the evergreen that always filled the center of the room, and a young version of himself sitting on the floor, watching the others open their gifts. Young Snape was intently looking at one girl, a couple of years older than himself, and when she picked up a package wrapped in black, with a silver bow, he held his breath. She opened the package and pulled out a pure white quill, at least two feet long, with an ivory base. She looked at the card inside, but did not look around after reading it. Young Snape's face fell, but he quickly pulled himself together and turned to play a game of Gobstones with a friend. Later, though, when he was one of the last left in the common room, the girl came to him, bent down, and whispered. He smiled, and watched her leave, twirling the quill between her fingers.

"Cost me all of my money. I didn't go to Hogsmeade the rest of the year," Snape muttered under his breath.

"What did she say?" Snape heard the voice of the spirit ask.

"She told me the first thing that she would write with the quill would be a note to say how much my friendship meant to her – her sister was ill, and it was a bad time for her."

"Did she write you?"

"No."

Everything went black for a minute, and the Great Hall appeared out of the darkness, gaily decorated for the holidays. Young Snape, perhaps a year older, was eating at the feast with a group of friends, laughing, pulling crackers, and tossing sweets to one another. Slughorn, Snape's Head of House, walked over with a jovial look on his broad face, and said something that set the whole table laughing, then stood young Snape up, clapped him on the shoulders, and made an announcement of some sort. Everyone at the table looked at Snape in awe, then, as he sat down, pounded his back, piled his plate with cakes and sweets, and clapped a party hat on his head. Snape's face was red, and he was grinning broadly.

"I don't think I've ever seen you smile like that," the spirit said softly.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing…What did Slu- er, the man, say to you?"

"He had just told me that the potion I created for an extra credit assignment had cured a terminally ill patient at St. Mungo's, and as such, I and the rest of my potions class wouldn't have homework for a half-term. I was the man of the hour."

"How old were you?"

"Third year."

"Wow...

"Now, Severus Snape," the spirit continued, "It is time to return to the present, and I must warn you, the next spirit will take you on a journey that isn't as pleasant as this one, nor is he as pleasant, as you will not look at the present with the rose-coloured glasses through which one views the past. Plus, he's a prat," the spirit continued under her breath, so that Severus was not sure that he heard correctly. He moved to speak to the spirit, but just as quickly, the candle blew out, and he felt her weight lift from the end of the bed. She was gone.

**The Spirit of Christmas Present**

As the clock struck two, and then the quarter, Severus got out of bed to look around. He saw a light coming from the Common Room, so padded up the chilly corridor from his dorm and entered.

In the center of the room, by the tree, an enormous person, eight feet tall at least, was draped over an armchair, robed in a splendid crimson garment, and eating grapes. He was surrounded by fruits and flowers, breads, cakes, and all manner of wonderful glowing treasures, and looked at Snape with a cocky grin that Severus knew at once. He scowled as he reached for his wand, only then remembering that it had gone missing before the first spirit had turned up.

"What are you doing, Black? Get out of my common room!"

"Manners, Severus Snape," the man said. "I am the Spirit of Christmas Present, and I have come to show you the wicked person you have become, and why none of these treasures can be yours. After I've done my bit, you will be visited by one more, the Spirit of Christmas Future." The spirit rose and advanced on him, the room went black, and Severus felt his body pushed back into a nearby chair.

"Drink this," said the spirit, and before he could protest, Severus choked down something that tasted like a heavy wine. His head spinning, Severus lay back and watched as another scene came alive before him.

"Why isn't Severus coming home, mummy?" A little girl was crying, sitting on a ratty sofa. A thin, worn looking woman with tired eyes patted her shoulder.

"He's very busy with school, darling. He's sent his love."

"Where? I haven't seen any owls."

"It-came while you were out, love. I had to burn it so your father wouldn't see. You know he and Severus don't get along."

"But I miss him!"

"So do I, love." The woman looked unseeingly at the fire, and then cringed, as, in the background; the sound of a door slamming could be heard. The scene went black.

"Did you owl her?" The spirit said.

"No. I haven't spoken to my family since summer."

"Because of your father?"

"No."

Severus could not tell why he was being truthful with the spirit, who looked and sounded so like Sirius Black that he wanted to hit him on pure reflex, but he couldn't seem to help himself. A new scene opened before him.

A boy, a fat young boy in a Hufflepuff uniform, was sitting in what must have been the Hufflepuff Common Room, staring blankly into space. Some boys came up to talk to him, but he did not acknowledge them, and after a minute, they shrugged and walked away.

"Why, do you suppose," The spirit asked, "That boy looked so upset?"

"I saw him in the halls today," Snape said in a blank voice. "I teased him, about his parents having been killed by Death Eaters. I talked about how they must have been treated. I kept at him until I made him ill in the corridor. Then I laughed at him, and walked away."

"He was just starting to heal, wasn't he? Looking forward to Christmas with his mates?" The spirit sounded a bit disgusted.

"Maybe," Severus shrugged. He didn't know why he had attacked Stebbins. He was so angry and miserable himself, and Stebbins, for all that had happened to him, looked happy...

**The Ghost of Christmas Future**

His mind swirled back into focus, and he found himself lying in his bed once more, completely confused as to how he had arrived there. He wasn't sure what was going on, but these visits or whatever they were made him feel unnatural. He liked to feel cold, aloof, above and beyond everyone around him: powerful. Tonight he felt weak, and helpless, and human. He didn't like it.

The clock struck three.

His door opened, and in the dim light from the corridor, he saw the outline of a figure, dressed in black. He started to rise, but before he could, the figure shook its head, slowly. He lay back down. He was beginning to be terrified, and as the figure touched his forehead with his finger, he knew no more.

When next he was able to see, he appeared to be in a ramshackle house, though large and full of fine things, once beautiful, now disheveled, but all cold and cruel. In a throne at the front of the room, a figure with a pale, pale face and red eyes stared intently at the crowd of black-robed figures before him, then gestured. One pulled forth a small girl, no more than five or six, the age of his own sister, to stand in front of the man in the throne. She was shaking and crying, until a harsh backhand from the minion stopped her tears. He looked at the man on the throne, who nodded, and pointed his wand at the girl, who fell to the floor, twitching and screaming as in great pain. Severus was very glad he couldn't hear this vision.

As the girl stopped screaming, the hooded minion who tortured her bowed to his lord, then seemed to stare in Snape's direction. The man pulled back his hood.

Severus was looking at himself.

He jerked himself awake in a cold sweat. The clock in the common room was striking eight, and sunlight was starting to peek into his window. His wand was clutched in his hand. The night was over.

**Behind the Scenes (just after 4 am)**

"Do you think it worked?" The black hooded figure asked, as he pulled his costume over his head and flopped into a chair in the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Doubt it, Prongs, this is Snape we're talking about, but it was worth a shot – I wanted to hex him stupid after what he did to Stebbins today but your lady love insists on teaching lessons _her _way. As though we could change a git like Snivellus." The Spirit of Christmas Present, shrunk to his normal size, shot a disdainful look at the Spirit of Christmas Past, who stuck out her tongue at him.

"Hey! The Veritaserum in the wine was _your _idea. Anyway, it had to help some, right?" Christmas Past asked, and looked around the room. "Remus, you're the only one who read that book – it worked on Scrooge, right?"

"It did, Lily, but Scrooge had a Victorian conscience buried under all of that misery and selfishness. I don't know if Snape has a conscience at all, but it was fun, anyway – good thing we saved those stray hairs of Malfoy's, eh? And Slughorn really should stop leaving Polyjuice Potion on display in his classroom."

"You were a superbly disdainful Malfoy," James said proudly. "And Pete's crystal ball was brilliant – perfect for watching the whole thing play out. Hard to believe you said divination was bollocks, Sirius."

"It is," the Ghost of Christmas Present replied. "But that thing works like the telelizzion at Lily's house since Remus charmed it – too bad Pete didn't stay over hols to watch!"

"Yeah," Lily said. "I can't believe how well that dream potion works, too – just the slightest whispered hint of what we wanted him to dream of, and there he was. So glad I took the time to learn to make it last term."

"We wouldn't have known _what _he was dreaming without Remus' Legilimency skills – and our mirrors, so that you other spirits knew what to ask Snape about his dreams, and with the right timing." James beamed at his friend, who was no longer Lucius Malfoy, but his own friendly self.

"Definitely a group effort boys." Lily smiled fondly at her partners in crime. "Er, should you carry Sirius up? That growth potion must have worn him out – he's passed out upside down with his head on the floor again."

"Nah, Lily, he'll be fine. Just kip a rug over him, and make sure his feet are covered."

"Alright then. Can't wait to see Snape at breakfast, eh? Goodnight!"

" 'Night. And Happy Christmas!"

_A/N: So you've read it. And you're sitting there, puzzled, thinking, "Wait. What about...?" or "But how did they...?" Just chalk it up to Christmas Magic._


End file.
